


the imitation game

by justacalamity



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Imitation Game (2014)
Genre: Carey Mulligan as John Watson, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/F, Female Sherlock Holmes/Female John Watson, Femlock, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Keira Knightley as Sherlock Holmes, POV John Watson, Sherlock Holmes Is Not Okay, Sherlock is NOT a machine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justacalamity/pseuds/justacalamity
Summary: "what kind of madness is it anyway, to be in love with something constitutionally incapable of loving you back?"— maggie nelson, bluets( a genderbent johnlock fanfic, inspired by the 2014 movie of the same name. )
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 6





	the imitation game

**Author's Note:**

> for the people who continually inspire me — penny, gigi, shannon, gia, holly, curie, juliette, vic and min.

**THE IMITATION GAME ;** _a test of a machine's ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of a human._

* * *

“can machines think as humans do?”

she sits in her chair, long legs crossed tightly. her fingers are together in the familiar hand steeple, propping her chin up slightly, the sharp lines of her jaw apparent. where other women are soft curves, she is knifelike lines and edges ; a fitting exterior for the surgical scalpel of a mind that lies within. only her dark hair, which falls in tangled waves, gives her some semblance of normalcy, but even _that_ is almost mathematical in its curvature. as if she was painstakingly created by a being who had wanted to make her seem human, without quite understanding what humans are like.

“i don’t know, can they?” i’d heard of the turing test in history class at school. as a bright-eyed teenager, the concept had fascinated me, but i can’t say i’ve thought about it since then.

it now seems to pique her interest, however, so i’ll listen gladly. as convoluted as her ideas sometimes are, they are never boring. 

“ah, john ! that depends on what it means to **_think_ **, doesn’t it ?.” her eyes light up the way they do whenever she’s considering something, an invisible current running it through her internal circuits. i can almost hear the sparks crackling in the air as she rubs her hands together.

and just like that, she’s about to go on a tangent about how people are idiots, which i’m more likely than not to get lost on. through no fault of hers, for sure. she just processes things differently than i do.

( than **_people_ ** do —— if i may be so bold. )

they say blue eyes are the coldest. lakes turning to ice and crystal-clear gazes that pierce like the cruelest frost.

but the ice melts eventually, and winter always gives way to spring ; that’s the way things are in this world. the cold won't last forever, and i’m grateful for that. i could never stay bundled up indoors for too long.

so i’m telling you the truth when i say the coldest eyes are the **burnished copper** of well-oiled cogs whirring in an immortal machine. a machine that stops for nothing and no one, that runs on and on regardless of what stands in its way. zeroes and ones, black and white ; merciless, relentless, **_utterly_ ** unforgiving.

01000010 01001111 01010010 01000101 01000100

**_b o r e d._ **


End file.
